


Thunder Mountain

by dorkylokifan



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Loki (Marvel), Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkylokifan/pseuds/dorkylokifan
Summary: Loki's village is dying from the drought. As the village shaman, it is his job to dance for rain and appeal to the gods for help, but when the rain never comes, Loki finds himself up next for sacrifice. When his kinsfolk corner him he flees for his life, into the heart of the mountain where it is rumored, that a demon lives.





	Thunder Mountain

Water dripped from the receding glacier, the only source of freshwater around. It hadn’t rained in over a year and everything was too dry and hot. Like the other members of his village, Loki had to make daily trips to the cave at the foot of the mountain to collect as much water as he could carry. Every day for months now, he’d danced to appease the rain god. He beseeched his mercy to bring the life-giving waters to his people, but the god of rain showed him no favor. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Sif asked. Loki bit his tongue. They’d already sacrificed their last cow to appease the mighty Aberewa and Efua. Loki knew of many other rain gods, had invoked their names repeatedly, but this rain god was unknown to him it seemed. None of them had answered his prayers. His most recent effort had been 7 days ago.

 

Fandral came up behind Sif with his bucket and his spear. “Where’s our rain, sorcerer?” Volstagg and Hogun were with him. They’d followed him here. 

 

“Were you going somewhere?” Sif asked as she spied his bag and his water skin. Loki cursed inwardly. He’d only stopped here to fill up before fleeing the village for good. He knew that his head was next up for sacrifice. 

 

“Get him!” Volstagg bellowed. Loki dropped his pack and ran. The only exit was blocked and he had no choice but to go deep into the cave, where the demon lived. Loki ran through the shallow pool, past the paintings of a large figure with glowing eyes. The stalagmites slowed him down and when he hit a wall, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Loki swung and clocked Sif squarely in the jaw with everything he had. She let go and he dodged left, running a few feet before spying a small hole. He dove for it on his hands and knees and scrambled inside it like a worm. The hole only got narrower the deeper he went and all light was blocked out by his own body. He was stuck in the dark. He could not back up, not when his former neighbors were screaming for his head. But he also could not tell if the passageway would open up or continue to narrow. If he pushed forward much more, he might not be able to get out. 

 

“Come out, Loki! There’s no way out!” Fandral yelled.

 

“We’ll be waiting for you! We’ll start a bonfire for you!” Volstagg yelled. Sif’s smiled curled upwards with an evil idea.

 

“Why not start the bonfire at the mouth of his little tunnel? We’ll smoke him out or roast him alive. Either way, the rain god will have his tribute.” 

 

Loki panicked and so, with no other choice he moved forward, even as the rock scrapped his ribs, and collided with the top of his head. He smelled the smoke and coughed, praying to any and every deity above to save him. And that was when he felt it. The breeze of cool fresh air, coming from straight ahead.  Loki grabbed a pebble and flicked it forward in the dark. The pebble bounced off the wall of a large cavernous area, judging by the echo. Loki knew his salvation lies ahead. He pushed onward, even when his face was forced to turn flat to the ground and his progress to freedom came inch by inch. 

 

His fingertips of his left hand grazed a ledge and he pulled. Like a cat squeezing through a hole in the fence, he oozed out into a pool of freezing water and howled in victory. The shouts and sadistic laughter of his former neighbors echoed from the other end of the tunnel. They thought he was cooking. 

 

_ Let them think me dead.  _

 

Loki reached into his pant pocket to retrieve a ball of pine resin and a bit of flint. Wading through the dark, the water went from his knees to his waist then back down to his knees. He stumbled until he found what felt to be a dry bank. He set the ball down on the hard ground struck the flint until it caught fire and illuminated his surroundings. 

 

There wasn’t much to see, except water as far as the light could carry ahead of him. He turned to look behind and saw only a flat cave wall and no discernable way out. 

 

The mountain shook. Loki fell to his hands and knees praying his head would not be bashed in by the falling rocks. Rocks scraping against rock filled his ears. Something pushed against his foot and he turned to see what it was. A staircase had formed behind him with a door at the top.  He knew then that the demon was real. 

 

Not much was known about the demon of Asgard Mountain. The paintings on the cave walls were put there by a people that predated his own. A dark figure with glowing eyes and a red aura loomed over a black valley. Large skulls with large tusks and large holes sat beneath drawings of a fearsome hammer. 

 

Some of the villagers had sworn they had seen it, in the cave, his eyes glowing blue in the dark. Loki hadn’t believed them. This summoning the gods business was all a con really. His grandmother had taught him the craft of inspiring faith. Knowing just enough about human anatomy and the local herbs made the villagers think he had magic. Now his lack of faith might damn him in some horrible way.  Or, if his luck kept up, he might discover the reason his people suffered without the rain. 

 

He reached the top of the stairs and ran down a corridor a short distance, where he reached a great wooden double door. Finely carved swirls forming a hammer symbol swirled in the relief and it reminded him of the blacksmith’s work at home. This was a door made by men. He grasped one of the rings and paused. Faced with the choice to turn back and try his luck elsewhere or satisfy his curiosity, Loki cursed himself. This mystery was too great a temptation. He pulled on the handle and entered. 

 

More stairs. But where the last had been crudely carved out of the side of the mountain, these were made of white swirling rock and curled iron. And it went up for miles. It circled around the inside of the mountain, as though the great landmark were completely hollow. Here there were signs of life too, for there were lit candles illuminating his way. He began his ascent, noting that as he went the walls became smoother, polished, and eventually painted. Great murals of animals, both familiar and not, told the story of the land outside. Giant creatures with great noses, tusks, and fur bore a striking similarity to the skulls down in the cave. But in the background was always an ever-looming dark sky. As he climbed he followed the story on the wall as animals gave way to people, battles, and the image of a golden man with a red cape and great hammer. Loki stopped and looked at him. The painting bore a smirk like the man was laughing at him from far in the past. His countenance was both angelic and challenging, and something about him sent a tendril of fear up his spine. 

 

The hinges of a heavy door groaned in protest as the wood slab swung open. He’d reached the top. More light poured out from the door. Loki smelled a fire burning and food cooking. 

 

How long had he been here? Hours? Days? He couldn’t recall, but he was starved. He had been so for months on the meager rations his people had left. When he entered the room, the door shut behind him. The lock clicked ever so lightly, but it made his heart race all the same. He’d walked into a gilded cage. The spread before him was a feast not even the chief of his village could boast of enjoying. Ruby grapes larger than an eyeball, weeping sugar, sparkled in a golden bowl. Next to them was a cornucopia of fruits, some of which Loki could not name. A suckling pig, basted to a ruby shine in its juices smiled at him from a silver tray. Dish after dish of steaming concoctions teased of saffron and spices. 

 

“Hello?” Loki called, his voice carrying far in the marble environment. He considered if it was perhaps a trap, with a horrifying punishment for those that dared to eat the food of the gods. 

 

The fire popped in the fireplace, snapping Loki’s attention to the large chair by it. Green fabric sparkled from the seat and Loki walked to it enthralled. It was a sheer emerald skirt with so much layering as to render only the most pleated sections opaque enough to provide any modesty to the wearer. Gold was woven into the fine soft fabric that could only have been loomed from spider silk. It was when Loki saw the fastener at the waist that he realized it was a gift for him. The little gold button bore the symbol of his trade, the snake. The skirt even mimicked his own less fine ceremonial garb which he wore when dancing for rain. 

 

He put the garment down and returned to the table and popped a grape into his mouth. Heaven’s tears, it was marvelous. His eyes squeezed shut as he savored every sweet drop. He ate another, and another, moving on to the other foods. Drunk on the pleasures of a good meal, Loki stripped off his clothing and donned his new ensemble. Barefoot and bare-chested, he wandered through the gilded room and explored deeper. He came upon a mirror and saw that his face was dirty. No sooner had he wished for a washbasin, then one appeared, and he wondered if it had already been there. He cleaned himself with the soft lace provided and then moved on, following the lit candles. 

 

Soft music played in a far room. Loki saw a harp playing, without any fingers touching it. A set of drums sat on the floor and before him an empty throne. The floor beneath his feet was soft, the walls were a rich red with luscious gold. Loki could get used to this. Yes, he understood now why he was here. He was here to dance. For a demon? For a god? For a creepy old wizard? He didn’t care. With the way the skirt was brushing against his cock with every step, he couldn’t help but feel tingly everywhere. 

 

The drums came to life, beating steady as the harp drifted away. Loki’s arm came up and his hips swiveled. He closed his eyes and ran his hand down his chest and moved. He would dance for rain, for pleasure, for life! He delighted in the whirling of the fabric, of his heartbeat matching cadence with the music. 

 

The candles flickered as a shadow moved through the room. Loki didn’t stop. He smirked, like that arrogant man on the wall. He knew he was being seduced, but he too would seduce in return. His dancing brought him to his knees, writhing and undulating as his unseen host watched with barely constrained desire. 

 

The drums stopped. Loki, with his mouth agape and hooded eyes, looked up at the throne. He moved his hands between his legs to press down his erection under his skirt.  Loki sucked in his bottom lip, his hair a wild mess about his shoulders. He knew how he looked, and his smile was smug. 

 

“So, what shall I call you? Demon? God? Or are you just a man?” he asked. The god opened his mouth and through a roll of earth-shaking thunder, his name came to Loki’s ears.

 

“Thor…” the wind told him. Tendrils of blue electricity radiated from Thor’s eyes and danced about his arms. 

 

“Thor, a god of thunder, but are you a god of rain?” Loki asked.

 

“Aye.” The thunder outside rolled once more. Loki covered his ears to protect them. 

 

“If you be a rain god, then you can save my people. I have prayed many times these months for your favor. Why have you refused me?” he asked still covering his ears. Thor did not answer, seeing Loki’s distress. So he stood and walked to the little mortal kneeling before him and offered his hand. Loki rose, meeting Thor’s eyes with a mixture of uncertainty and ambivalence. Thor leaned forward, his lips nearly brushing his. Thor’s eyes searched Loki’s almost daring his to close that gap. Loki tipped his head upward and let his nose brush against Thor’s as he spoke.

 

“Perhaps the sacrifice you require needed to be more carnal in nature? Do you desire me, Thor? Do you desire this fragile little mortal? How long have you watched me from a distance, eager to touch me? And why did you not come down from this great mountain to take what a god wants?” 

 

Thor closed the distance and smothered Loki with his lips. He gripped Loki’s biceps with godly hands, which were slightly rough. Loki wondered what the god did all day to make his hands that way, like a mortal that labored. Thor’s hands moved down to his hips and he pressed them together. Loki’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

 

“You’re a big boy aren’t you?” Loki liked a big cock the same as anyone, but what he felt filled him with alarm. Thor saw the fear in Loki’s eyes and hummed his understanding. The sound of his voice box vibrating still shook the walls a bit, not so much as when he spoke. Thor turned his gaze then to a statue on the far wall. It was a life-sized version of Thor, naked, with an erect dick sitting on another throne.

 

“Is that how you’ve been taking care of yourself all alone up here?” Loki teased and flashed that shit eating grin that made the villagers want to strangle him. Thor cocked an entertained smile at him and guided Loki towards the statue.

 

“Wait, your dick doesn’t actually look like that does it?” Loki asked. The cock on Thor’s statue was phallic, technically, but it looked like a series of knots with an impossibly large one at the base and a very small one at the tip. Smaller than even a normal penis head tends to be. 

 

Thor’s arms came around Loki from behind, and he pressed fresh kisses on Loki’s neck. He gathered Loki’s skirt in his hands, pulling it up in the back until Loki’s ass was exposed. His shaft desperate to break free of its leather prison and breach the mortal body before it, Thor spun Loki and backed him up to the statue.

 

“You mean to split me open upon it. Shall I sit on its lap, like a good boy? Tell it all my desires?” Loki rubbed Thor’s crotch to tease him for a moment before reaching behind himself to align his hole with the statue’s tip. The smooth polished stone impaled him easily, and he was three knots deep before he felt any discomfort. Loki licked his lips and braced himself on the armrests of the statue. His gaze locked with Thor’s as he started bouncing his body on the stone shaft. His skirt tented but it obscured Thor’s view, so he reached out and ripped it off of him. 

 

Loki’s flushed pale skin was pink from his nipples down to his groin. The tops of his ears and cheeks blushed as well as he panted, writhed, and touched himself. His own cock, red with need tapped against his belly, dotting it with flecks of precome. With each bounce he took the stone shaft a little deeper, spread himself wider, opening himself up for something much bigger. When his skin began slapping against stone thighs, Thor knew Loki had fully seated himself. He grabbed Loki’s hips to still him, and pressed him down, kissing him to swallow his moans.  

“Shall I keep bouncing until I come? Or am I ready to receive you? My god…”

 

Thor stepped back and removed his tunic and every inch looked as though carved from the same stone as the statue. When his opened his trousers Loki saw his grandness. A prominent vein streaked up the shaft from base to tip like a lightning bolt, twitching with blood flow. It made Loki wonder,  _ do gods bleed? _

 

Though it pained him to stop his gyrations, Loki stopped, stalling his own climax and got on his hands and knees and crawled to Thor. His shrewd green eyes never left the god. He wanted this being under his spell. His hands raked up Thor’s thighs. He nuzzled the curls, breathing deep Thor’s electric scent of summer and rain. The head was so large Loki could barely get his lips around it and held the meaty shaft with both hands as he tongued the slit. 

 

Loki’s own neglected little cock brushed against the rug upon which he knelt and his hips jutted forward to get more friction. He let one hand down to palm himself. Thor’s hands fingered through Loki’s hair and then grabbed his shoulders. Thor wanted to move on, but Loki simply looked up at Thor, his mouth full of cock, and slowly withdrew, leaving a long string of spit and precome connecting from the head to the tip of his tongue. He closed his mouth and swallowed, knowing Thor would imagine him swallowing all manner of things down his lean undulating throat.

 

“Shall I prostrate myself now? And you, mighty god, shall you sow your seed inside of me? What will you give me in return for such worship? Will the rains spill forth from the heavens as you spill forth in me?”

 

“Yes…” Thor grumbled, quaking the room and thundering in Loki’s ears once more. Loki turned his body and arched his ass up and reached with both hands and used his fingers to spread his hole wide. Thor kneeled behind him and positioned the head at his entrance. Its massiveness sent a shiver of apprehension through Loki. He bit his lip and held back his cry as Thor sunk into his flesh. He wanted to be used, wanted to be a vessel for divinity, wanted to be the best damn lay this god had ever had! So he took it, he took it all. Every inch he swallowed his cries until Thor’s hips met his own. 

 

Tears streamed down his face and Thor made gentle cooing sounds and held him close. The electricity dancing over Thor’s skin spread to his own body. It tingled his nerve endings in delicious and unexpected places and when a spark tickled his tip, Loki’s cock jolted and he came hard.

 

“Thor! My God! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Loki begged, and Thor moved. His body felt as the bedrock broken open by an earthquake. His channel grew wide like a raging river and Loki knew that what he desired most was to be filled like this every night for all eternity, with the essence of the rain god flooding his belly. Thor’s hands bruised his hips with his crushing grip. The storm inside him sparked ever more lightning between their bodies. As Thor reached his climax, Loki’s vision went white and the sky outside opened with a torrent of much-needed rain. 

 

“Loki? Loki can you hear me?” Thor asked his voice now a volume that didn’t cause deafness nor shake the ground. Loki opened his eyes and took in a gasp of air. “You’re alright. You’re safe now. Those mortals can never hurt you again. I made sure of it.” 

 

“What happened?”

 

“You died,” Thor said. Loki furrowed his brow, confused and looked over where Thor was looking. On the carpet, cold and blue as ice was his body, dead. 

 

“You killed me?” Loki asked horrified, but Thor smiled at him gently and cupped his face.

 

“Do not despair my darling. You are not a mortal spirit. You will not face judgment from some uncaring god. You have been given purpose.”

 

“And what purpose is that?” Loki asked, unable to conceal his hurt.

 

“To make mischief for the mortals and chaos for the gods. To make love with me every night to bring the rain, and be my heart.”

 

“Chaos for the gods? How?”

 

“I lost a bet to Jupiter a while back, an up and comer among the gods with powers similar to my own. The mortals were turning their faith away from both of us and worshiping a new god named Zeus. We both fought for the right to gather power from their prayers, and I lost. I’ve been imprisoned in this mountain since. Sleeping mostly to recover. I awoke last year, weakened and in need of worship, so I withheld the rain.”

 

“But I worshipped you! I danced for you every day. We killed pigs and cattle and burned valuable grain to appease you!” 

 

“None of which I needed. I’m a fertility god. I make it rain so that things can grow. What I needed was a good hard fuck, and since I am imprisoned here, the only way I was going to get any companionship was if your people sacrificed someone. It’s usually a young virgin girl who doesn’t know a damn thing about pleasure. Judging by your dance moves, you had knowledge and experience in spades.”   
  


“Fuck you! You robbed me!”

 

“Don’t you want to know what you get in return for your death?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re a god Loki.” 

 

“What?”

 

“For freeing me from my century long prison, I have blessed you with divinity. That mortal husk lying on the ground over there is not to be mourned. Like a snake, you have shed your dead skin, and now you are beautiful.” 

 

“I’m a god? God of what? Getting fucked to death?” 

 

“You’re a new god, you can stake your claim on just about anything. However, be warned that whatever you choose, it is how you’ll derive your worship and prayers, and ultimately, your power. And if you choose to be the god of something popular, you’ll have other competitors for those prayers.”

 

“Then I choose to be the God of Lies,” Loki said. Thor raised an eyebrow at that, confused by his choice.

 

“Why the God of Lies?”

 

“Because lies are an eternal part of the human condition, and never are prayers more ardent or sincere than when people pray that their deception succeeds.” 

 

“Hmm, I think you will become a very powerful god indeed.”

 

“So...that’s it? Am I free to go? What happens now?”

 

“Yes, you are free to go. However, your people believe they roasted you alive in that tunnel down below. I’m afraid if you return home, you might frighten them a bit, especially now that you have that new god glow about you,” Thor said, knowing that revenge was going to be first and foremost on Loki’s mind.

 

“Mischief for the mortals. How entertaining.” 


End file.
